


To forgive, to forget

by Kyni, OrphielBurrito



Series: Of time and universes [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Chameleon Arch, M/M, Romance, World Domination, cannibals, space travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 18:52:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11812107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyni/pseuds/Kyni, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphielBurrito/pseuds/OrphielBurrito
Summary: After the Doctor and the Master fixed the rift created by the Master's escape, they had to figure out how to co-exist in the same universe and deal with emotions.(Of Time and Universes, pt 3)





	1. As we fall again

Three years. It took three whole years to the Doctor to look for Clara – and finally find her. But it wasn't right, it wasn't their Clara, and it was all for naught. Madame Vastra and Jenny came to help for a while, offering assistance in searching Trenzalore for her. Nothing worked. She was nowhere to be found and the Doctor had to admit their defeat after a while.

Perhaps it was for the best. They weren't their best self when she was around and they were slowly realizing it. To impress her and to solve the mystery that she was, they had done things that they were not proud of, things that brought them back to the darkest part of their personality. They were _good_. They were a savior, not a person who terrified people to figure them out, never again. She had sacrificed herself for their survival and that did not sit right with them : it was usually their job. Their thing. They were the one running head on into self-sacrifice to save the world.

Nevermind that it was usually their companions taking the brunt of the hit. They weren't ready to realize that just yet.

Three years had brought no answer. No answer as to why everything was feeling so wrong, so out of place. As to how they had escaped their own timeline, alone. And during these three years, they'd just felt more and more lonely and unable to stand the feeling of emptiness in the depth of their guts.

They guessed that it was time to check on their old arch-enemy – and hope he was still alive and not doing something incredibly silly.

 


	2. Playing again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor finds the Master again, doing something silly, for a change. They talk. Again.

  
  


Of course, he _was_ doing something silly.

They found his trace in a remote galaxy, where he had managed to take control of a small planet through the use of what seemed to be... puppies. Robot puppies engineered to enact mind control over those who invited them in their homes. And who wouldn't ? The things were quite adorable indeed. The plan was working, a first for the Master – but it was rather preposterous. Maybe not more than the plastic daffodils. Still preposterous.

They placed their ship in orbit around the planet and opened a communication channel with the Master's TARDIS. He did not seem the least bit surprised to see their image appear on the screen but rather... amused.

“Well, hello, Doctor. Back from your little research ?

\- This is getting ridiculous.

\- It's not. I'm ruling this world and you're too late. Can't say I'm not pleased to see you though, this was getting boring.

\- You do realize it would take me a fraction of a second to send a deactivating signal all around the planet and see your _people_ turning on you ?”

The Master smirked. It was obvious he was playing, enjoying the game he created, even moreso now that the Doctor had joined it. They resisted the desire to roll their eyes.

“You won't do that, Doctor. Come on. Join me, my dear, we could be gods. Look at it this way... you and I, we're both faces of the same coin. The good one and the bad one. Imagine what we could do together.

\- This again ? I don't want to be a god. Tried that once, it was boring. And there is no _together_.”

No together with their arch-enemy, an arch-enemy who chose to leave after getting his memory erased rather than talk it out. The Doctor wasn't sure of what the Master remembered so far. Not sure of what exactly mattered. Nothing relevant happened during this time spent fixing their ships, right ? Nothing that could change anything.

“So it's a fight again, Doctor. Well, that's disappointing. I treat them _well_ , you know.

\- Time Lords are not supposed to interfere and you know it as well as I do.

\- I don't consider myself a Time Lord anymore. They're all dead. Gallifrey burned. I saw it with my own two eyes and this non-interference philosophy is stupid. By the way, you're a hypocrite. Nobody ever interfered as much as you did.”

The Doctor chose to ignore the last comment. Nevermind that it was true – it wasn't the point. At least _they_ didn't try to rule worlds and bend them to their will, to make whole planets behave the way they liked... did they ? Well, no. Their protection of Earth was infinitely different from the Master's ridiculous attempts at being a ruler. He wasn't even _good_ at it.

“What's the point, Master ? You always end up in trouble and I have to rescue you. Is it really worth it ?”

There was a moment of silence. The Master's brow furrowed slightly and his smirk narrowed, as if he was really considering the question. What _was_ the point ? Well, if the Doctor couldn't figure it out, he was certainly not going to lay it all out for them.

“Did you find your companion, Doctor ?

\- Changing the subject, I see. No, I did not. The one I found... wasn't the one I was looking for. How about you ? What did you do ?

\- Oh, my dear Doctor, wouldn't you like to know ?” The Master smirked again and crossed his hands behind his back. It felt good to have some power over the Doctor, to know something they didn't. He had never mentioned his short-term companion and didn't intend on doing so, not so quickly. Not until he remembered everything about her.

Not until he remembered everything about _them_.

  
  


 


	3. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things are discussed and there's more running to do.

The Master watched as the Doctor's ship materialized in the very middle of his main office. They were more precise than they used to. Had they learnt to pilot somewhere down the line ? He had missed a whole incarnation who had perhaps taken some lessons on how not to be a public menace when driving a ship. Unlikely. Knowing them, this unusual precision was just sheer luck.

Their whole get-up made him raise an eyebrow. Their hair was even messier than it had been the last time they'd met and the outfit... the outfit wouldn't have shocked anyone in London's worst punk eras. Torn jeans, combat boots, a sweater that was far too big for their slender frame. It was ridiculous. But then again, it was the Doctor ; ridiculousness was their thing.

He had gone back to his usual suits. No more hoodies and bleached hair and certainly no more collar. He had a reputation to maintain.

“Hello, Doctor. Care for some wine ?” offered the Master, snapping his fingers at a red-haired girl who trottled towards him with a bottle, her eyes wide with admiration.

“Is that your definition of treating them well ? Slavery ?

\- She's not my slave. She's happy to work for me. Aren't you, dearie ?

\- I am very happy to work for the Master,” enthused the girl. “He's been good to us. Very good to us.

\- That's just mind control. Would she say the same thing if I were to remove your telepathic field ?

\- Your lack of faith is breaking my heart.”

He dismissed the girl with a wave of the hand. At least some things were still the same in them. They were still sanctimonious, so certain that they were right. Saving the world just because they _could_ , just because it sounded like what a hero would do. They had never been good, never really ; they were just very good at convincing themself. The Master wished he could make them face their delusions just like they were trying to confront him with his lust for power – but that was an already lost fight.

“Take a seat, Doctor.

\- I shall remain standing, thank you very much.

\- Do you know how frustrating you always are ?

\- Because I do not wish to be seated ? Are you so used to being completely obeyed ? Now that must be frustrating... no one to ever defy you. No one that will stand up against you. When it's too easy, it is even more frustrating, isn't it ?

\- You're the only one who ever does that.”

It wasn't quite true. He could remember a girl, a girl who walked the Earth to defeat him, alone with her courage and strength. Little Martha Jones – he wondered what had become of her. Quite obviously, she wasn't travelling with the Doctor any longer. Good for her.

“Indeed I am. So, am I really _frustrating..._ or is it just that you hate my being right ?”

Always  _being right_ . That's all that mattered to them in the end. Being right. The Master stood up, sending all of his minions away. Whatever would happen next did not need any witness.

“Right ? You're very rarely _right_ , Doctor. Tell me one thing. Why are you always running ?

\- Because I like it.

\- And do you like running away from  _me_ ?”

The question came as a surprise to the Doctor. They recoiled a bit as the Master was inching closer. The conversation had suddenly changed tone and they weren't sure how to react or what their friend wanted from them. So they chose to tell a half-truth – it was still better than an outright lie.

“I'm not running from you in particular.

\- But you always do, in the end. Even if it's not  _from me in particular_ , you always abandon me in the end. Burning in flames, burning my regenerations in a black hole, diving head first in the Eye of Harmony, being captured on Gallifrey. Even the last time...

\- I did not  _run_ ! I left to gave you some space with... everything.

\- And yet, you always come back,” continued the Master as if they hadn't said anything. “You always come back to me.

\- Because we are still friends, Koschei.”

_Koschei_ . The Master hadn't heard this name in a very long time. He didn't comment, simply smirking at them before returning to his chair. At least, he'd gotten an emotional response out of them. Sincere or not, that was still debatable, but it was better than anything else they'd given him. 

“So, _my friend_. What should we do ? _Compromise_? I hear that's your thing.

\- Yes. Fine. Let's compromise. If once the mind control is removed, they are still willing to follow you, I will let you do as you please. If not... well, I'd say I will stop you, but they certainly will do it on their own.”

The Doctor did not expect the Master to agree – but he did. With his usual smirk, without moving from his chair, he offered them to access the control panel and deactivate the telepathic field. It took but a few seconds for the people outside to realize what had happened and to start revolting immediately, taking down the very few guards that their now ex-ruler had put in place. The Doctor watched the situation unfurl, saddened by the outcome. They had almost hoped that this wouldn't happen, that the Master would have changed, treated his people well enough that a rebellion wouldn't have been necessary. As they stood at the window, a hand on the glass panel, they felt their friend's presence right behind them, almost close enough to touch. He leaned in to whisper a few words in their ear – not the ones they would have expected.

“You might want to run, Doctor. These people are cannibalistic.”

 

 

 

 


	4. The Diva's Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Time Lords absolutely do not do dates and are extremely good at communication.

The Doctor had run, because that was what they did best, without knowing whether or not they would hear from the Master again. Part of them hoped that this little incident would have been enough to cure his desire to rule the world but they knew better than to trust this naive desire. He would never stop. Not until he had what he wanted – whatever that was.

In the following years, they looked for Clara again. Looked and looked and found so many versions of her, none that was the one they wanted to see. Until they decided to pay a visit to Madame Vastra, Jenny and Strax.

The trio had taken Clara under their wing. She was working with the Reptilian detective, helping her on cases, and seemed quite content of her new life – more than she had been of her trip in the TARDIS. She actually had a few choice words for them and the way they had treated her, the way they had  _abandoned_ her after they had managed to leave their own timeline. Once again, they had waited quite a while before coming back for those they had left behind. They still offered to take her home, to travel with her again. She refused. At least, in Victorian England, working with Vastra, she had a purpose.

They had left her without trying to get her affections back. They needed to be alone. They had work to do.

  
  


One day, a song was heard across the whole universe. A song sung by a diva whose voice was clear as crystal, sung in ancient Gallifreyan. An invitation.

They couldn't possibly resist.

  
  


“So, I'm guessing this is your way of asking me out on a date,” smirked the Doctor at their arch-enemy.

He was sitting at a table on a deserted moon called Pandora in the Centauri system with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. The Master always had to be grandiloquent.

“You must admit it's a bit better than when _you_ did, my dear Doctor. Champagne ?

\- I never asked you on a date,” they grumbled, sitting in front of him. “Technically, I was asking you to stop.

\- Details. Now... where were we ? Ah, yes. Still friends, you always coming back to me – guess I was right, hm ? Here you are.

\- You invited me. Was I supposed to refuse ? After all, it was a rather original invitation. And you know I cannot resist a mystery.”

The mystery being the reason why he had wanted to see them. The champagne was fantastic, as was to be expected from the Master, and the bubbly feeling on their tongue soothed some of their concerns. If he had wanted to kill them, he would probably not have used expensive champagne to do so... or maybe he would have. The Doctor figured they would soon know. 

Much to their surprise, the Master's hand caught theirs as they were letting go of the glass.

They were not prepared enough to have built shields and he was the best telepath they'd ever known. They couldn't hide fast enough, not from him. He could see clear as day their anxiety, their fear of being alone coupled with an intense desire to be left on their own, their few years of travelling without a companion after finally finding Clara. In return, he let them see the girl he'd met before they crashed at his feet. She had long black hair and a mean temper and she'd managed to soften him a bit, for just a few moments, enough to make him  _talk_ – but he wouldn't let them know what about. She was dead. Killed in a fight against aliens, because she had decided to go adventuring on her own. 

The Doctor took their hand away from the Master, rubbing it as if the contact had burnt their skin. 

“You're really bad at being on your own, Doctor. Now more than ever.

\- What, are you offering to watch over me ? How the tables have turned.

\- I'm offering an adventure. You and I. Isn't it what you always wanted ?” The Master folded his arms, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face. He was preparing something. There was always a plot, a scheme. The Doctor wished they could have figured out what it was. “Lucky sent your ship some coordinates. Meet me there.

\- Why should I ? You never do anything that isn't in your best interests and I doubt you'd derive any pleasure from adventuring with me.”

The Master only replied with a laugh that looked somewhat painful. He was still dying. The Doctor remembered that – he was still dying. Maybe this adventure was to be his swan song, since he'd been deprived of his glorious death fixing the rift at the end of the world ? They wouldn't let it be. They wouldn't let him die.

In a blink of an eye, they stood up and grabbed his tie from across the table, pulling him close enough that their noses were almost touching. The expression of surprise on their friend's face was delectable.

“You're not going to die.

\- You mentioned that already. And yet you haven't done anything about it.

\- Yet. I want you alive. And you know how I always get what I want, Koschei.

\- This is not my name anymore.

\- Then prove to me that you're still the Master of survival and I shall call you by your name again.”

They released him and walked away to their ship, only turning around to grab their glass of champagne. They weren't going to let it go to waste – it was far too good. 

“I'll meet you at the coordinates. Don't be _late_.”

  
  


 


	5. The unfortunate adventures of John Smith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is late to the da... appointment. Very obviously, the Master doesn't quite like it.

As it turned out, the Master wasn't the one who was late.

He had sort of expected the Doctor to stand him up but after their last demonstration of... whatever that had been, he had hoped for a bit more consideration. He had been waiting for an entire week and they had not deigned showing up. In his book, that qualified for a very nasty response and he was already planning his next move when Lucky showed a distress call on his screens.

The Doctor's TARDIS was calling for help.

  
  


John Smith was a school teacher. A rather odd one, according to most of his students, with his mane of black hair and his big eyes that never seemed to settle on anything. He went on rants about everything including the state of the ozone and the way squirrels ate their food, very rarely focusing on the actual content of the lecture. It was also very well known that he had a bit of a thing with the school nurse, a plump red-haired girl who giggled every time he opened his mouth – a reaction he adored to the point he never stopped talking when she was in the vicinity.

John Smith was a happy man. Of course, John Smith would have been happier if he actually existed.

He would also have very much preferred the new headmaster of the school to be a bit less... on his case. What a weird bloke. Somehow he seemed familiar, looked a bit like the old Prime Minister, but it couldn't be him, right ? That Harold Saxon guy was dead. Besides, the headmaster was called James Stoker, not Harry Saxon. It was enough for John to stop questioning his identity. His motives were a whole other can of worms : Stoker was almost stalking them, or so it seemed, always showing up at the worst moments. Preferably when he was busy trying to get a date from the nurse.

And of course, there was the whole “keeping him at work on the very night he was supposed to go on a date with said nurse” thing. Stoker couldn't possibly have done that on purpose but John hated his guts for it. He had to cancel the date and he _hated_ cancelling dates.

  
  


_I found an alien life form. I think it infiltrated my circuits. Used the Chameleon Arch. The Doctor is not the Doctor. Lucky, go away, it's dangerous._

The Doctor's TARDIS was repeating her warning in vain, for Lucky was the only one who could hear her. The Master had gone to do his thing and only came back at night to check the scans. He was very much aware that there was some kind of alien enemy trying to take over the Earth and somehow capable of infiltrating TT capsules but that didn't seem to concern him. If the creature wanted to rule the Earth, let it. That would make the Doctor angry and they certainly deserved it.

_Small life form. Like Vashta Neradas, but not Vashta Neradas. Dangerous. Lucky, go away. Dangerous._

Making sure that “John Smith” didn't get any moment alone with that school nurse was a perverse pleasure and the Master bathed in it. The look of frustration on the Doctor's face every time they had to cancel a date was absolutely priceless.

_They're building a conglomerate. They're keeping me. They have the fobwatch. Somewhere underground. Don't have the exact coordinates. Go away ! It's dangerous ! I don't trust the Master ! Go away !_

Of course she didn't trust him. After what he did to her, it was a fair deal. Still, the Master couldn't help but roll his eyes at the incessant warnings from the Doctor's ship. Both her and her thief were very much alike, moaning about everything all the time instead of actually fixing things. And now _he_ had to save the world – him ! Just to get his date... his appointment. The Doctor would hear about this for a very long time.

 


	6. The death of John Smith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the Master pretends to be a ninja and the Doctor is a flirt.

The creatures had started building a conglomerate in an abandoned warehouse where they had stored the Doctor's TARDIS. He could feel her, her anxiety, her attempts to contact Lucky and be reassured as to her fate. Silly thing was worried he'd set her on fire or something equally as tasteless. The Master rolled his eyes at the idea, sneaking in the warehouse through a window at the back, away from the millions of eyes that were watching the ship and the conglomerate. His body was in no condition to perform such acrobacies but he didn't exactly have a choice. Walking in guns blazing – or in this case, laser screwdriver – wouldn't have done any good. These things were capable of hijacking a Chameleon Arch and turning the Doctor into a pathetic human being who drooled after a school nurse, they could certainly defend themselves against the Master if he were to attack directly.

And he didn't wish to attack, not quite yet. First, he had to get that damn fobwatch to restore his Doctor's personality. This John Smith was a sentimental jerk who loved the sound of his own voice far too much. Yes, the Doctor was pretentious and vain, but they had something to show for it. This teacher stuck in a dead-end position with nothing for him but his charms ? Not so much. Well, yes, John Smith was good-looking and charismatic and knew how to use his fragile aspect to gain whatever he needed... but the Doctor was so much more. And the Master was not going to let some pathetic insectoid aliens kick their ass. It was his job.

A job he would gladly do, once his old friend was back to normal.

  
  


The look of sheer glee on the Doctor's face – no, on John Smith's face – was disguting. Less than twelve hours before, the Master had infiltrated an alien conglomerate to steal a fobwatch, had to fight a rather sizeable squadron of said aliens, then escaped through the ventilation system, all of that while _actively dying_ , and this idiot was smiling cheerfully at the nurse. Because she was wearing some kind of pink gloss and he liked that, apparently. “Makes your lips look like strawberries”... could he get any cheesier ?

But John Smith was blissfully unaware of the dark glare that James Stoker gave him. After working extra hours again the night before, he had secured a date with the nurse on the weekend, when Stoker couldn't request him at work. He would finally be able to flirt with her openly – because it seemed that to him, what he was doing at the moment was not “openly flirting”. He was the only one thinking so.

When the headmaster called him in his office, he rolled his eyes, wondering what the other had invented to make his life a living hell this time. The smirk on Stoker's face only increased his worries and the humongous pile of paperwork next to him did not help one bit.

“Do you need my help, Sir ?”

Smith tried to speak with the utmost respect although his thoughts were far from being so pleasant. Covering his headmaster with insults would do him no good – but it was extremely tempting. Stoker seemed to enjoy being called _Sir_ more than he should have had, given that his position came with such a title, but Smih decided to chalk it up to the man being too full of himself to react otherwise.

“Yes, Mr Smith, I do. See this pile here ? It's a mountain. I'm afraid I can't handle it on my own.”

His smirk widened and Smith's brow furrowed. Was he serious ? Was he _inventing_ paperwork now ? No way a school could have so much papers to deal with. He would have replied but the sound of something falling to the ground interrupted his train of thought, prompting him to pick it up.

A fobwatch. A pretty one, too, with elegant engravings of circular patterns that seemed oddly familiar. He liked fobwatches for no other reason than their prettiness and this one certainly took the cake.

“Sir, I think you lost something. It's quite a collection piece...

\- Ah, yes. Would you mind telling me the time, Mr Smith ?”

He knew that he shouldn't have trusted the smirk on Stoker's face and yet he opened the watch, fully unaware of what would come out of it.

 


	7. Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is restored to their usual self and has very original techniques to get the Master to calm down.

  
  


“... Oh dear.”

The Doctor regained their consciousness and memories in the fraction of a second, just enough time to realize the situation they had put themself in. Not that they had _wanted_ to get transformed into a human and lose all of their memories and miss the date... the appointment with the Master, no, but he certainly was not going to accept that as an excuse.

“Welcome back, Doctor,” growled the Master. “Now, as a punishment for being _late_ , you will deal with this pile of paperwork while _I_ deal with the aliens.

\- Are you serious ? There is a species out there that can infiltrate TARDISes and hack Chameleon Arches and you want me to stay to do some worthless paperwork ?

\- It's not worthless, it's what allows this school to run, and _yes_ , you _will_ take care of this.” The Master's voice raised by a few decibels, as if he were truly angry – but that wasn't possible, was it ? He couldn't possibly have been so upset by the idea of... being stood up ? It was hardly a first.

“While you save the world ? You ? Allow me to be skeptical...

\- Just shut up and obey, Doctor. And feel free to keep calling me Sir.”

He took his jacket, ready to storm out and perform a very unlike him heroic task, but the Doctor couldn't resist trying their luck. Someday, that nasty tendency would come bite them in the arse.

“What if I refuse ? This is the world I swore to protect, the one you keep on trying to destroy.

\- You better not refuse ! I did all this for you and I'm really tired of waiting for your sorry ass everywhere, I'm done with you now ! Stay out of my way.”

And with that, he was out, the door slamming behind him. The Doctor remained alone with a gigantic pile of paperwork and one hell of a headache.

  
  


Breaking up with the nurse proved to be more of a challenge than they had expected. The poor girl didn't understand why “John Smith” had suddenly changed so much, why they kept on looking at the headmaster with a mix of apprehension and... something else that she couldn't quite describe but looked a hell of a lot like desire. The fact that said headmaster was covered in some kind of greenish substance did not help her feel more at ease.

The Doctor felt sorry for her and wanted to give her more explanations but the Master didn't give them the time to apologize or talk much more. Despite having single-handedly defeated an entire alien race, a feat which should have calmed his nerves a bit and soothed his ego, he was still very much irritated. For once, the Doctor was aware enough of their own mistakes to choose to shut up.

“You're exhausting, you know ? You didn't even finish your paperwork,” grumbled the Master while walking faster than he should have, followed by a very perplexed Doctor.

“Is it really necessary ? You already stole my fun...

\- In case you hadn't noticed, Doctor, I'm _angry_ with you.

\- I didn't do it on purpose ! I was on my way, they got me and... well, you know the rest. Come on, it's hardly the first time I miss a d... an appointment.

\- And reminding me of that is not making your case any better. It's enough, Doctor.

\- No, not enough. You scared that girl and probably hurt her like hell, when she had nothing to do with it all, you killed without even wondering if there was another solution... Very much your usual style. For someone so brilliant, you can be so damn thick sometimes.”

They jumped when the Master's fist hit a wall nearby, creating a wave of pain through his arm that even they could feel. The intensity of his rage and pain was almost too much to bear – and they weren't even touching.

“I am the Master, I do what I want and I kill if I want to kill. This is what I am and you know that ! I was scared for you and what do I find ? You flirting with a nurse ! I should have known better. You just don't care about... anything. I should have let you here and let this planet be conquered.”

He was almost shaking with rage. Scared ? Scared about them ? Or scared because he thought someone might have killed them before he had a chance to do so ? It didn't matter. What mattered was that their oldest friend, their _best_ friend in the universe, was suffering and it was their fault.

They weren't as surprised as they could have been that he was so emotionally invested in this... date. Lucky had told him everything that had happened during the time he had forgotten, of course. He remembered this night on the ground of a closet, sharing their minds while they were sleeping – or if he didn't remember, he knew it had happened.

He knew what it had _meant_.

The Doctor's fingers slowly wrapped around his tie to pull him close. And with their kiss, they tried to swallow a bit of his rage.

 


End file.
